


Blood on Our Hands

by partykeefus



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Love Confessions, M/M, Murder, True Love, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 07:25:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11286489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/partykeefus/pseuds/partykeefus
Summary: Lance McClain was smart. Smarter than his peers gave him credit for. He was goofy, quick to joke about serious things, and always kept a smile on his face. Some people thought he was creepy, some found him charming, but they never knew the truth about Lance McClain.





	Blood on Our Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is basically the Serial Killer AU nobody asked for! It started out with a Coffee Shop AU, how did it end up like this, it was only a Coffee Shop AU, it was only a Coffee Shop AU...
> 
> Huge shout out to my fiance for helping me brainstorm and write this!!! Also for @shir-oh-no (on tumblr) for suggesting a coffee shop au which i turned into a serial killer au with a coffee shop scene... sorry....

At age twenty one, Lance was a little over halfway done with his criminology degree. The more he studied, the more he found himself fascinated over the notion of serial killers. He watched every documentary and read every book he could find about them. Along with his studies, he knew everything there was to know about getting away with murder.

At first he didn’t know what to do with this information. Until one day, on a crowded bus, he witnessed a couple vagrants climb in and proceed to harass everyone in the front. One of them started a fight with a gentleman in a business suit. The bus had to be stopped and the police had to be called. He was late for class.

This is when he realized something needed to be done. The world didn’t need these undesirables. What the world needed was unnatural selection; Darwinism wasn’t working fast enough.

And who was he to deny the world this service?

\-----

After his weekly visit with his best friend, he walked past the house next door as per usual. He side eyed the door that muffled the usual screams behind it. He caught a glimpse of the man inside beating his wife as he passed the window and felt rage build in his gut; It was scum like this that made Lance sick to his stomach.

The next week, he found the man stumbling out of a bar a couple blocks away. Lance followed him carefully and took note of the dark alleyway the drunkard took to get home. He did the same the next week, and the week after that, and on the third week of consistent behavior, Lance decided to make a change.

With his hood up, leather gloves on his hands, and a brand new belt in his pocket, he followed the inebriated man home once again. The alley was unlit, as predicted, and the man had not a care in the world as Lance unfurled the belt in his hands. He rushed forward and wrapped the belt around the man’s neck, fastening it as tight as he could. The man struggled, tried to scream, but the mixture of drunkenness and Lance’s superior strength made it impossible to make a sound or get away. After what seemed like an eternity, Lance felt the man weakening.

The man’s now dead weight lie in Lance’s arms.

He dropped the body, and its head made a sickening crack as it collided with the cement. Lance unstrapped the belt, gasping to catch his breath.

“I… I did it.” Lance whispered. “I killed him.” He stared at the corpse. Nausea overwhelmed him as the guilt of murder set in. “I killed him!” He gasped. He began walking away. “It’s… It’s for the greater good! That’s right; life will be better without that one in it. It had to be done!” He murmured, smiling to himself. “It had to be done!! If I didn’t do it, who would have?? No one, that’s right. I’m a hero!” He laughed.

He popped his earbuds in his ears and played his favorite playlist as he walked home, a skip in his step and a smile on his face.

\----

Takashi Shirogane was a normal guy. He had a patch of white hair on his head at age twenty three, he was in shape, and he loved to help people. That’s why he studied medicine, planned to be a surgeon. Until one day his ambitions were killed along with his normal life.

A motorcycle accident changed everything. Wearing little to protect himself, his body was in ruin. Thank god he was wearing a helmet, otherwise his actual life would have ended. He hit his head so hard the helmet broke, and caused a concussion so severe he couldn’t function. His right arm hit the pavement first, breaking it in so many places it was hardly recognizable. He could still remember looking down the street and seeing chunks of his flesh strewn across it. They had to amputate that arm.

Luckily, his insurance covered accidents like that, and he got the newest model of prosthetic available. Sleek metal now replaced his arm. It worked beautifully; the doctors who installed it said the surgery went better than expected. For that, he was grateful.

The mental repercussions were a little more complicated. He had minor brain damage, and constant anxiety. After a year of his symptoms getting worse, having hallucinations, and hearing things, he was finally diagnosed with schizophrenia. The diagnosis was scary, but was treatable with the right medicine and therapy. For the most part, he was back to normal.

That is, until he met one Lance McClain.

\-----

Lance sat in his usual spot, a booth in the corner, writing his 20 page essay due that week. The coffee shop is one he frequents, visiting to study, meet up with friends, or just to hang out and enjoy the atmosphere. And maybe, perhaps, to get a glimpse of that hot guy who comes in almost as much as he does. Lance finds it hard to focus when Mr. Hot Guy is there, and that’s exactly what’s happening.

Lance stole glances in Hot Guy’s direction. With white fluffy hair and a metal prosthetic shining under the lights of the cafe, the guy was hard to miss. Lance sighed and got back to his essay.

\------

Two hours later, Lance was almost done. He leaned back from his hunched position and stretched his back, making it pop and crack. He looked at the time on his laptop and just as his eyes met the clock, a notification popped up.

LOW BATTERY ALERT

“Shiiiiiit!” Lance drew out the vowel. He looked around the cafe frantically for a seat by an outlet. His eyes met with Mr. Hot Guy’s form again and realized he was sitting by an outlet! Lance packed his things and took a sip from his now watery iced coffee. “Here goes nothing!” He murmured before scooting to the edge of the booth and standing.

He walked over slowly, not taking his eyes off the white haired boy. Once at an appropriate talking distance, he cleared his throat. “Hey there!” The boy whipped his head in the direction of Lance’s voice. “Oh, sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you.” Lance smiled.

“No problem, man!” The boy smiled back.

“Hey, so, sorry to bother you but my laptop is dying and I’m so close to finishing this essay. Mind if I sit here and plug it in?” Lance asked.

“Not at all, go for it.” The boy nearly gave Lance a heart attack with how perfect his smile was. He shuffled his own laptop and papers to make room for Lance at the table.

“Thanks!” Lance squeaked. He dropped his bag at the chair across the table from the boy and took his laptop out to plug it in. Once charging, he opened it up and prayed his work was saved (even though he saved 11 times before closing it). Lance sat in the chair and noticed the boy was still smiling at him. “Um, thanks again! Can I get you anything…?”

“I was about to ask you that!” The boy chuckled. “What’s your name?”

“Lance.” Lance smiled warmly.

“Nice to meet you, Lance! You can call me Shiro.” Shiro’s grin got impossibly wide. “C’mon, I’ll get you a drink so you can finish your essay!” He got up and waited for Lance to comply.

“Alright, but I’m getting you something to pay you back.” Lance said as he stood and followed Shiro to the counter.

Lance got a frappucino and Shiro got a green tea latte. When they got back to their seats, Lance got back to work while Shiro was distracted.

He stared at Lance. He admired the curve of his chin and the point of his nose, the deep blue of his eyes and his caramel brown skin. Lance’s skin looked so ridiculously soft. Shiro’s arm twitched, resisting the urge to brush his flesh hand over one of those cheeks. He looked at his papers.

“So Lance, what’s your essay about?” Shiro said, reaching over to smooth out the pile of papers.

“Serial killers.” He replied easily.

“That’s cool. Like, old ones or new ones?” Shiro asked.

“New ones, you could say.” Lance smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“That’s really cool! So you’re studying like, crime and stuff?” 

“Criminology, yeah! It’s such an interesting to-”

“It’s so cool! I always wondered how people got away with murder for years without being caught. It’s honestly kind of crazy, with all the new technology we have available how could anyone get away with it so easily? It’s amazing! The killers, I mean.” Shiro gasped in a breath. They stared at each other. “Uh, sorry, was that weird?”

“No, no! I think it’s amazing too! That’s why I’m writing about it.” Lance beamed.

“Really?” Shiro said a bit loudly, earning a glare from a mother holding her child’s ears. Shiro merely blinked at them before turning back to Lance.

“Some people just don’t appreciate the brilliance of serial killers.” Lance smirked. Shiro laughed at that.

“I honestly don’t know much about them. Maybe you could educate me?” Shiro rested his chin on his fist with a smile.

“I’d be glad to.”

 

Lance didn’t finish the essay that day.

\------

After Shiro got Lance’s number, it was non-stop. Shiro would text him first thing in the morning, send him gym selfies, and they would exchange memes almost all day. Shiro found his facebook, his instagram, and his blog, all of which he stalked thoroughly. He found out Lance wasn’t friends with some of his family members; He found out Lance loved garlic knots and pineapple pizza; He found out Lance has a fascination with the ocean and everything in it. He loved him! This boy was sent to Shiro for a reason, but he couldn’t think of what that reason was yet.

It would come to him late one night a few months later, after hanging out with Lance.

Lance left Shiro’s apartment at around 2am. Shiro offered to have Lance stay over, but he insisted on going home regardless of how late it was.

As Shiro got ready for bed, his eyes caught on Lance’s hoodie laying on his couch. It hadn’t been too long after Lance left, so Shiro figured he could catch up with Lance and give it to him. He thought of it as a good excuse to see him again. He grabbed the hoodie before getting his jacket and shoes on.

\------

Nearly 20 minutes later, Shiro was starting to wonder what the hell happened to Lance. He wandered the streets leading to Lance’s apartment, not seeing him once. Shiro pulled out his phone and called him again, only to get his voicemail. He walked briskly down the sidewalk as he spoke.

“Hey Lance, it’s Shiro again. Where’d you go? I wanted to give your hoodie back but you disappeared. Call me once you get this, okay?” He drew in a breath to speak once more, but something got his attention. The sound of metal being struck against something. He hung up the call and stopped walking to listen harder. The pounding was coming from across the street, he determined, and began walking toward it. As predicted, the metal panging got louder and louder, until he came to a dark alleyway. He turned to peer inside, and what was there made his breath stop.

Lance.

With a steel pipe in hand, pounding away at what seemed to be a man.

Lance brought the pipe up above his head and swung it down, creating a sickening squelch as it hit the corpse’s mess of a head. Blood splattered the ground around it, and brains oozed out the holes already made in it. Shiro gasped as Lance repeated the action again and again. By about the fourth time swinging, he noticed a very shocked Shiro.

“Shir- Shiro!” Lance gasped, dropping the pipe and rushing to Shiro’s side. “Everything is okay, Shiro!”

“Lance… you…. Killed someone?” Shiro’s voice wavered, eyes never leaving the corpse.

“Yes, I killed him. He was scum, it had to be done.” Lance wore a warm smile as he reached and touched Shiro’s face, smearing blood on his cheek. “It’s for the greater good! Remember? We talked about justice and doing the right thing. This is the right thing.” He explained quietly. Shiro looked into Lance’s eyes.

“So this is real?” Shiro asked.

“Yes, this is real. And everything is okay. Is… that my hoodie?” Lance pointed to the clothing in Shiro’s hands.

“Yeah, I came to give it back to you.” Shiro laughed.

“Keep it, if i take it now I’d have to burn it… like this shirt.” Lance looked down at his blood splattered T-Shirt.

“I can get blood out of clothes.” Shiro smiled fondly. Lance laughed.

“So you’re really okay with this whole killing thing, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, and I’d like to help if I can.” Shiro threw Lance’s hoodie over his shoulder and used his hands to cradle his face. “I don’t think you understand how much I want to do the right thing. I want to make a difference, and I’d love to do that by your side. I’d do anything for you, Lance.” He leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to Lance’s lips. “I love you.”

Lance’s smile grew.

“I love you too.”

\-------

By the time Lance was 23, Shiro and him lived together. He just graduated from college and was offered a job at the local police station. At the time, news of a serial killer was spreading. They warned people not to walk alone at night and to steer clear of alleyways. The police hadn’t gotten any solid evidence on who the killer was; The boys laughed at that. For two years the police chased empty leads.

Lance could barely contain himself when he stepped into work to find his boss red in the face screaming on the phone over another fake lead. He slammed the phone down and ashed his cigarette.

“McClain!” He roared. Lance immediately sobered. “I’ve had it with these amateurs pissing away city money. I want you and your fancy degree to find this killer and bring him to justice!” Lance swallowed hard.

“Yes, cap’n.”

Weeks went by, and there was nothing but false leads sent in by Shiro to throw off the police investigation. It worked well enough, seeing as they had no evidence to work with in the first place. In the time Lance had been “investigating” the killer, he hadn’t done any killing. His coworkers began questioning whether or not the killer was in town any more. Nothing could ruin the safe haven Lance and Shiro created.

Except, perhaps, a rookie mistake.

In order to play with the authorities further, Lance and Shiro coordinated a killing that happened while Lance was at work. Which left Shiro to do the killing by himself. They’d only killed together for the past two years. Neither one of them could have expected the city’s buddy system to actually work.

“911, what is your emergency?” The secretary said. Lance looked up from his phone. The secretary’s eyes got wide. “What is your location, we’ll send a car immediately.” Once the location was jotted down, she stayed on the line. “They’ve got the serial killer. We need someone there, now!”

Lance’s face paled.

\------

Lance drove the patrol car to the scene and got out of the car. His partner drew his gun immediately and took aim at Shiro’s crumpled form.

“Hands where I can see them!” He barked. Lance took aim as well. A shot rang out. His partner’s body hit the ground. Lance ran to Shiro who was crouched over on the ground.

“I’m- I’m so sorry. I didn’t expect someone to see.” Shiro said. Lance grabbed his hand and yanked him up to stand.

“It’s okay, we don’t have much time, we need to -”

BANG

Shiro hit the ground heavily. Lance looked from Shiro’s bleeding chest to his partner that was now attempting to stand. Lance, overwhelmed with anger, shot blindly as he stalked towards the car. Once he was towering over his lifeless partner’s body, he unloaded his remaining bullets into his skull. Lance rushed back to Shiro.

“Shiro! Shiro!!” Lance chanted his name as he cradled his body.

“I’m… so sorry Lance. I’m sorry for… letting you down. I got us caught… I’m sorry I can’t stay with you to change the world. I’m sorry.” Shiro said quietly.

“I need an ambulance, hurry!!” Lance screamed into the receiver of his radio. “No, Shiro, everything’s going to be okay. Everything’s gonna- Everything’s gonna be fine!” He sniffled. “It’s okay Shiro. I love you… I love you…” He smoothed down Shiro’s hair and ran his fingers through the longer locks.

“I love… you too… Lance.” Shiro’s eyes began drooping.

“Stay with me, Shiro!” Lance cried. “Takashi, please, stay with me!”

Shiro’s head went limp.

Everything after that was a blur. Lance’s screams echoed down the street. An ambulance showed up, along with several police cars. Lance was cuffed and brought to the station where he confessed to the murders over the past two years.

After some jail time, and a very short trial, he was sentenced to death.

\------

At age 23, Lance McClain was happy; in a fucked up sort of way. Happy to have made his mark on the world. He loved seeing his name in headlines of local newspapers. But what he loved more, was the name next to it. The man who helped him, cared for him, and loved him when no one else would.

Takashi Shirogane.

He released a sigh of relief as the needle penetrated his skin into his vein. He knew he’d be seeing Shiro once more.

He smiled for the last time, and it all went black.


End file.
